Title: "Date Night"
Author: monimala
Fandom: VM
Rating/Classification: NAC, fluff, gen with LoVe mentions, humor.
Disclaimer: Not my characters!
Summary: 645 words. Written in about an hour because Angel Grace wanted to see Keith and Weevil hanging out and giving Veronica's dates the Evil Eye.
"You want I should break his legs, Sheriff?"
"No, that might not be prudent, Eli."
They both craned their necks, peering out the cracked blinds at the stoop.
Was that a hand on Veronica's butt? A hand that was not her own?
"On second thought, go right ahead."
It was official. There were two balding men playing peanut gallery inside her apartment. When had Veronica's life become the Muppet Show? The question was, which one was Statler and which was Waldorf? And she would ask, she really would, once Logan got his tongue out of her mouth. And removed the hand that was probably on the verge of being snapped off his wrist.
"Are you done yet?" her dad called helpfully from inside.
Keith tapped his fingernails on the arm of the sofa. "Four more minutes," he muttered, and Weevil knew he wasn't talking about the last quarter of the Chargers game. "I give it four more minutes."
"Logan, I've really got to go," she said, peeling away even as he gave her That Look that said "come back to the Grand and swing from the chandeliers with me." Unfortunately for him, he didn't realize that having not just one but *two* nosy biddies waiting for her inside pretty much put the kibosh on swinging of any kind.
She kind of rued the day she'd asked her dad to give Weevil a job. They were practically inseparable now. They talked cars and football and complained loudly about how hookers wore less mascara than she did. And they seemed to have endless evenings of Chernobyl buffalo wings and Jones soda that coincided with her and Logan's date nights.
Good lord, maybe this was *their* date night.
"I can break his legs *and* his arms. Just don't tell my parole officer."
Keith stopped his surveillance of the door just long enough to laugh at how sincere Weevil sounded. "It would be our little secret. Eli. No worries."
"I tell you, Sheriff. When 'Phelia turns 13, she ain't leavin' the house."
"I always knew I should've home-schooled Veronica!"
"Where do you send home-schooled kids for detention?" The door swung shut behind her and she offered Logan one last wave through the cracks in the blinds. "'Cause I have to tell you, Dad, my room's pretty tricked out. I could last days in there left to my own devices."
"She has *devices*?" Weevil gasped. "Man, I didn't need to know that."
"Neither did I, Eli." Keith shuddered, giving him a Scarred-for-Life Look.
"Are you two quite finished playing Victorian chaperone?" Veronica wondered, noting, with some amusement, that they each had coasters under their soda bottles. *Coasters*. Look out criminals of Neptune! Look out Logan! She had the distinct feeling his limbs were safe.
Weevil saw the look she was giving his green apple-flavored Jones. "Hey, there's no way abuela would let me get away with not using a coaster, you dig? And, no, I don't think we quite are finished." He enunciated the last few words, sounding Masterpiece Theatre snooty.
"We were working on an Intentions Speech, actually," Keith expanded, as Veronica inched towards the hall and the relative safety of her room.
"Whose intentions? Mine or Logan's? Because I have to say, mine involve large quantities of Skippy peanut butter and the 2008 presidential election."
"Crunchy or creamy?" Weevil arched an eyebrow.
"Please. Crunchy, of course."
"All right, then you may go." Keith made paltry shoo-ing motions, gaze already drifting back to the nearly forgotten San Diego Chargers.
Veronica took the window of opportunity to wave goodnight and run for it.
Once her bedroom door clicked shut, the two men shared a companionable moment of silence, punctuated only by TV commentators and ESPN's cheap, trilling theme music.
And then, they reached for the last of the wings.
"I'm still breakin' something, Sheriff."
"I'm still approving it, Eli."
"Excellent."
--end--
October 25, 2006.